


Changed Fates

by DramaticalHearts (kusokawaii)



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, Past Lives, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 00:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8035558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kusokawaii/pseuds/DramaticalHearts
Summary: Legends from long ago tell of soulmates and their partners, finding one another by an identifying mark, their fates sealed at first sight.
Mink wasn't sure if he believed in it.
Until he met a young man with an unusual ring-shaped scar around his neck.
(Post-bad end AU)





	Changed Fates

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this entirely on a whim (and faster than I've written in, months), inspired by a prompt tweeted by shinocchidesu and kaneel_stok!
> 
> I plan to make this my first multi-chapter since 1, one of my new year's resolutions was to start a multi-chapter fic, and 2, if I'm going to make a multi-chapter, I might as well just jump into it. Overthinking hasn't worked. :P
> 
> BUT there's a slight risk that there will be a delay between chapters or that this will go unfinished. At the moment I plan for this to be only 2 or 3 chapters long, and I'll try to write as much as I can while it's fresh~ ovo9
> 
> Any feedback is greatly appreciated!
> 
> Thanks to shinocchidesu, kaneel_stok, and cynabrum for the inspiration and encouragement. c:
> 
> And thanks to yasuo_karada for being my beta reader for this!

“Black coffee, please.”

 

“Your name, sir?”

 

“Mink.”

 

The barista turned promptly and set to work. Mink sighed, waiting for his coffee to be prepared. The coffee shop was quiet this morning. Mink suspected it was due to most of the local student body not having rolled themselves out of bed yet.

 

Mink was fine with that – he was a teacher, after all. As much as he liked to help out his students if they needed it, he preferred to have his morning coffee in undisturbed peace.

 

“Here you go,” the barista smiled, handing Mink a steaming, strongly-scented brew.

 

“Thanks,” Mink replied, taking the coffee and paying the barista.

 

“You're welcome! Have a good day!”

 

Mink nodded, and with his drink in tow, he found an empty table to sit down at. He had time to spare, and history essays to grade.

 

Drinking his coffee, Mink paused to observe his surroundings between essays to clear his mind, finding the atmosphere of the coffee shop both calming and fascinating.

 

He heard joyful giggling nearby – a couple had walked in, a young woman holding the door for the other, her partner lightly scolding her for it, how unnecessary it was, but smiling all the same. They walked to the counter together, the taller woman's hand finding the shorter's and grasping it. The shorter woman looked up at her partner, beaming.

 

They were clearly in love.

 

When they got their orders, they walked to the door. As they passed Mink's table, he spotted something he hadn't before: The taller woman had a round scar on her chest, displayed by her low-cut shirt. It appeared very old, and in a place where a wound there would be considered life-threatening.

 

As they left, Mink took a thoughtful sip of his coffee.

 

Legends from long ago told of soulmates and their partners, finding one another by an identifying mark, their fates sealed at first sight. Many in the modern age denied this at first, declaring it myth and superstition. It wasn't until thorough death records had been compiled for many years, that the truth seemed to come to light.

 

For reasons no one had yet found out, past victims of murder found themselves irrevocably drawn to the persons who had taken their lives, in their previous life. This was concluded after a couple found out that the scars that they had been born with lined up with the wounds inflicted on a couple in a murder-suicide pact case. After that, more and more cases such as this came to light, as others had their scars investigated.

 

Many skeptics had been converted to believers – in reincarnation, in the soul itself. But some were still uncertain, claiming that the cases were coincidental, that nothing could be truly proved.

 

Mink himself was unsure. He had studied the history of it, and saw many close couples in his own life who met through a supposed flash of memory when they saw the other, yet also saw many other such couples split up – which, he supposed, could be expected of couples made up of former murderer and victim.

 

Why this would be the case at all, if it were true, was puzzling – wasn't it a cruel fate to be drawn to the person who was once your murderer? That, most of all, was what gave Mink pause. Though he had yet to be in a romantic relationship, he believed in love – his parents loved one another deeply, and they had no unusual scars that they came into this world with.

 

Though, he remembered, there was an ancient text that had been discovered only recently, which read, in part:

 

_If one man takes the life of another, the Great Spirit does not condemn them to an eternal punishment. Instead, in that man's next life, he is fated to the one he fell. He will atone for his sin, and hate will turn into love. So is the Great Spirit's plan, to create a peaceful world._

 

This was something that couldn't be proven by science, of course, but it was intriguing nonetheless.

 

So, though he was a man of logic and reason, Mink never quite dropped this subject from his mind. It was a curiosity to him – it was rare indeed that a legend from ancient peoples would prove to have some merit to it, and Mink was a man who respected the wisdom that these tribes passed down through the ages, instead of immediately writing it off as myth or foolishness, as many academics were prone to do.

 

Mink sighed, getting up from his chair, empty cup in hand. This subject was something that was beyond him, a question that he may never find a satisfactory answer to. All he knew was that he had been born with no unusual scars on his body, so the legend would likely never touch his life.

 

He stepped up to the counter once more, asking for a refill. The barista obliged, taking his cup for a moment.

 

When she was finished, she handed the cup back to Mink, who nodded his thanks, and turned around to go back to his table to finish his work.

 

Instead, he bumped into the next customer in line, spilling his coffee.

 

“Ah! Oh no, I'm so sorry!” the customer exclaimed, giving Mink a panicked once-over, then scrambling to look for paper napkins to clean up the mess. Luckily, little of the hot coffee had spilled onto Mink's hands, but some got on his shoes and on the floor.

 

Mink looked up, and saw a shock of blue hair. It belonged to the young man standing before him, who gave him an apologetic look before ducking down to wipe Mink's shoes and the floor clean.

 

When he was done, the young man stood up fully again. “I'm so sorry, I'll pay for your coffee.”

 

“That's-”

 

The young man's eyes were hazel, his skin pale and clear.

 

And there was a scar around his neck. A seemingly complete, slightly jagged ring, spanning horizontally across.

 

Without warning, a pulse of pain shot through Mink's head, making everything come to a halt. Images rushed through his mind, like a forgotten memory coming back to him all at once.

 

_A burning forest. Screams in the distance._

 

_Yet it didn't feel like reality. Not quite._

 

_A tall, broad man stood there – himself._

 

_His mind was in chaos – it lost touch with who he was and what he had been. He was broken._

 

_And before him stood a shorter young man. A man with blue hair._

 

_He heard himself making a declaration of sparing the other's soul, a soul which he believed was centered in the head._

 

_The next moment, he drew a large knife._

 

_With a single prayer and a swift motion, he cut the other man's neck. He saw the blood flow freely._

 

_Moments later, he stood with the young man's head in his blood-stained hands. He did not seem horrified by what he had done. Rather, he held the severed head up, and pressed his forehead against it in a gesture that seemed loving and reverent._

 

“ _With this, I can protect your spirit. It will be with me for eternity..._

 

_Always with me. Always...”_

 

The vision ended abruptly, snapping Mink back to reality with a gasp. He raised a hand to his right temple, the pain still dully resonating there, as he tried to reorient himself.

 

The young man's brows furrowed. “Are you okay?” he asked, confused, and, Mink thought, a little nervous.

 

Mink breathed slowly. “I'm fine,” he answered in the calmest voice he could manage. “You were saying?”

 

The young man looked doubtful, but continued. “I said I'll pay for the coffee I made you spill.”

 

“It's fine. I should be going anyway. This is enough,” he said, gesturing weakly with his cup, which was now about a quarter short. “Thank you though.”

 

The young man gave a wary, but kind, smile. “You're welcome.”

 

Mink nodded and headed for his table, swifter than usual. “Goodbye.”

 

He gathered up his half-finished work, trying not to look too hurried, but packing it up faster than he usually did. Then he left the coffee shop, the door swinging closed behind him.

 

He walked at a fast pace, heading for his apartment complex. He tried his best to keep his composure, though he felt dizzy and nauseated.

 

He couldn't think much, but one thing he knew for sure was this:

 

He had to meet that young man again.


End file.
